Love and Marriage
by Palace of Ice
Summary: A Sanctuary AU with a little history thrown in, where Nikola Tesla and Helen Magnus fall madly in love Oxford, get married and have to overcome both Nikola's severe germ phobia and their own Victorian hang-ups. Warnings: A strange combination of sexy yet sentimental, thus pleasing and/or annoying my readers. Some mention of Christianity. The end might be tragic to Tesla fans.


Love and Marriage

The priest made the sign of the cross, the wedding crown in his hand, and Nikola swallowed nervously as it was brought before his face. He gingerly pressed his lips against the cold metal, shuddering at the thought of how many others had touched it, without it ever once being washed! He tried to cover wiping his mouth on his sleeve by pretending to cough, but was sure it fooled no one. The crown settled uncomfortably on his head. He peeked at Helen out of the corner of his eye as she went through the same motions. Now she looked like the queen he always knew her to be, the queen of his heart, and soon to be ruler of the home he would make with her. Beautiful Helen...

The priest led the newly married couple around the altar, three times for the holy trinity, and Nikola squeezed Helens hand in his. Three times for every circuit, making the perfect number nine. The trio came to a halt with a sense of finality. 'It is done' Nikola thought vaguely in shock. 'My dear Helen, you and I are one flesh.'

He stared at her intensely. The blond curls covered by a white veil, the cream of her skin, the blush of her pink lips, her eyes shining like gems, gazing back into his. How could this have happened? That she chose him, a man as yet unproven in his chosen career, four years her junior, and terribly shy. And...inexperienced was the kindest way to put it.

Nikola startled as the wedding crown was removed, causing Helen to muffle a giggle. He shared a secretive little smile with her. They processed out of the church, holding hands, ready to begin their new life. Together.

...

It had already been a week living together as man and wife, and yet, without consummating their marriage. Helen was beginning to get worried. She had expected Nikola to be his usual shy self, perhaps the first night, and maybe the second, but a full week?! As the nights passed she had become bolder, soon giving up on him broaching the subject or making the first move. The man wouldn't even change in front of her for god's sake, and when she tried fully disrobing before him he gasped and literally covered his eyes!

He was still his awkward yet tender self during the day, taking her hand, pressing the lightest of kisses on the inside of her wrist, and sometimes, ever so careful to avoid brushing against her hair, he gently took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. Yet, he never embraced her, never touched her anywhere else.

She knew there were many women who would prefer such treatment. They abhorred the physical demands that an undisciplined husband could make on his wife. There were some women who, due to a morbid fear of childbirth, shunned their conjugal duty as much as possible. Such women would no doubt regard such respectful and restrained behavior from their husband as a mark of great virtue and refinement.

Yet, Helen was not such a woman. She missed the open and enthusiastic embraces of her family, especially her father, who had sometimes been criticized for his excessive tenderness towards his children. Besides her weakness for being held, she also dearly desired children. A daughter with Nikola's elegant hands. A son with his high brow and deep set gray-blue eyes. The longing to be a mother was so great that it felt almost like a physical pain.

Finally, there was the fact that a marriage was not valid until consummated. Was Nikola having secret doubts about his commitment to love, cherish and care for her? It was a simple matter to have a marriage annulled if there had been no consummation. Was he anxious over the financial burden that she and their future children represented? He had been unhappy at the prospect of having to take a meager position as a draftsman again, but lacked the funds to move them both to the continent in search of better work. If there was one thing she feared he loved more than her, it was his work.

The state of things could not continue. It simply caused her too much anxiety. Tonight she would present her desire for children and simply ask him when he would be ready to fulfill the promises they made on their wedding day.

...

Nikola entered the bedroom, having changed into his sleeping clothes. As a bachelor he had never given such things much thought and had generally slept in just his underthings, but now, he was having some difficulty with sharing a bed with another person. The last time he had done so had been with his brother. It was soon after Dane's death that he found it unbearable to be touched. Even holding his own mother's hand had created a feeling of unbearable anxiety along with a shock to his sensitive nerves, just as painful and startling as an electrical shock. Then later, when he had nearly died of cholera, he had developed a horror of dirt and germs, and having seen it himself with a borrowed magnifier, human beings were crawling with germs, specifically the germs of disease.

Though he knew that Helen was well-bathed, every day as was he himself, and kept herself scrupulously clean, he still felt that same irrational emotional and physical reaction to touching her bare skin that was quite out of his control. He tried to keep his upset from her as much as possible, but was beginning to fear that their marriage would prove impossible. After all, it had been for this very reason that he had never engaged in any relationships until he had met Helen.

He had hoped that his great love for her, so overwhelming and passionate that it had bordered on obsession, would let him overcome this malady, then when he had found himself unable to go beyond chaste kisses and handholding; he had prayed that the sacrament of marriage, becoming one flesh, would eliminate the anxiety. Yet, it still persisted the same as ever. Truly, he could not see a way forward for their marriage.

Helen entered the bedroom fully dressed. Her dress was no longer the ravishing and seductive red that she had worn during their school days, but instead a rather practical, but still rich brown satin that was quite fetching. She come up to him then gracefully turned, her hair piled and pinned securely on her head. She lowered her head; the first few buttons of her dress undone, exposing the nape of her neck to his enchanted eyes. "Please undo me." she murmured.

His hands shook as he hovered over her. She seemed terribly small in such a sweetly seductive pose. He dipped his head closer to the back of her neck and inhaled silently. The scent of her, that indefinable mix of her warm, clean skin and her lightly perfumed hair...it was a heavy, hot pleasure, sinking lower in his body, while causing him the sort of pain he was ever so familiar with, that of desire denied.

He watched avidly as her body softened and swelled, the air rushing into her lungs as he loosened her corset for her. "Better, dear one? I know you love to dress well, but it must feel good to let go at the end of the day..." he whispered next to the tiny shell of her ear. How he wished to kiss her there, but it was impossible. How would he avoid brushing against her hair?

She began disrobing, leaving on her chemise and petticoat. She already knew that the sight of her uncovered legs was too disturbing for him. He felt suddenly sad that she was stuck with such a peculiar husband. How long would it take before she gave up on him altogether and became cold and dismissive of him? How could he blame her if she did? He was a man who could not even embrace his own mother, who could hardly bear to kiss his wife. What cruelty to ask her to please, continue loving him, please keep trying...

She abruptly sat on the edge of the bed, looked at him pointedly and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit here. I need to talk to you about something." Dread tightened his throat and curled like a dragon in his stomach. He gingerly sat on the bed, leaving a hand's-breadth between them.

She took his hand in hers and looked him in the eyes. "I love you so dearly Nikola. You are truly the greatest man I have ever known, and on the day of our wedding I knew that it was my destiny to be your wife...and have your children." The last was said hesitantly, though she refused to avert her gaze. "Do you...wish to have children with me?" She whispered, flushing pink and pushing the words out awkwardly.

Nikola chuckled nervously, shifting around on the bed. "Ah, well, yes..." he stammered. Several moments passed in expectant silence. Finally, he cleared his throat and feeling his face heating with embarrassment, he admitted, "It feels, discomfiting to touch..." he lifted her hand in his, "I have become accustomed to this, but it is still..." He couldn't bring himself to say that half the time holding her hand made his skin crawl. It was too cruel and she would be insulted. How could she love him if she knew how he really felt?

"Hmm..." she looked at their joined hands thoughtfully, recalling how during their courtship he often uninhibitedly took her hand-while wearing gloves. "Is it the bare skin that causes the discomfort? Seeing and touching?" He nodded quickly, grateful for her willingness to put it into words for him. "Would it be acceptable to embrace so long as I was clothed?" Nikola nodded again, and then hesitantly muttered, "Well...as long as I didn't touch your hair..." Helen nodded, "Yes, I noticed you never do that. It must feel...unpleasant for you, I understand." Nikola looked at her, surprised, "You don't mind it? I wish I could...that I were like others, but I-" Helen cut him off, "Never wish that. You are as you are meant to be."

Warmth swelled up in his chest and tears to his eyes. "You understand me." he whispered and tentatively wrapped his arms around her soft waist. He gave her a tiny squeeze, pressing the side of her hip against his own, and then released her. It was the first hug he had ever given her, and she broke out into a dazzling smile. "We will work this out. I am certain of it!" she exclaimed giving him a little squeeze back.

...

Helen pinned up her hair then covered it with a white veil, not unlike the one she wore on her wedding day. 'It is as though, every night I will become his bride again, perennially pure.' she mused at her reflection. She was covered neck to ankle by the sleeping gown, also white. Underneath she wore a pair of open-seam bloomers, so that her hips and thighs were modestly covered, while allowing access for sanitary purposes, and hopefully tonight, for conjugal purposes.

She turned from her vanity at the rattle of the door handle. Nikola entered the room fully dressed, excepting his coat and hat, which he always hung by the front door of their apartment. As usual, he presented a sharp figure, with his fashionable suit, silk cravat and bespoke high-laced shoes. Despite their financial constraints her husband believed in dressing well, as the world took a man's measure by his appearance, as unfortunate a fact as that may be.

He stopped abruptly, taking in her appearance, her hair bound and covered in every way, and she could just see him shiver. 'Is it anticipation or fear?' she wondered. With a soft smile, she realized it was probably both.

He unbuttoned his jacket; eyes glued to her as she got to her feet and walked over to take it from him. Carefully and lovingly she hung it straight and brushed off the tightly woven wool, then did the same for his vest. "Sit." she said firmly and took him by the arm, pressing him toward the bed. Kneeling down she unlaced his shoes and tugged them off his feet, as though he were a child. "Helen...you don't have to do that." he said in his soft, high tenor. "Dear one-" "No, no, no Nikola. Let me care for you like this. I want you to feel how much I love you." she whispered in his ear as she loosened his cravat. He sighed and let her be, until she began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Is this alright?" she smiled down at him sweetly as she undid each button gradually exposing his chest. She unbuttoned the cuffs and gently slipped his shirt from his shoulders, exposing one slim long arm then the other. He sat there before her loving gaze, half-nude and self-conscious. His thin frame was exposed, sharp collar bones over a narrow chest with a smattering of dark hairs. The natural slump of his posture, a bad habit from constantly bringing himself closer to others, down from his six feet and two inches height to theirs, exaggerated his weak chest, making it appear almost sunken. "Sit up for me," she cajoled, reaching for his waistband with both hands.

He gasped when her fingers brushed against his soft belly, sat up straight and leaned away from her slightly. She froze as though calming a skittish wild creature. "Calm yourself. It is alright, you can tell me to stop if you like." Nikola shook his head. She watched his chest rise and fall with a sigh. "Go ahead..." he whispered, his eyes dark and liquid in the candle light.

She carefully unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them open to expose his underwear. "Stand up." she murmured, then she pulled them down his long legs, letting him step out of his trousers, then quickly stood up to brush them off and hang them up. When she turned back she found him sitting again, taking off his socks. She gently took them from him and put them aside, then sat down next to him.

She took his hand in hers, and felt him trembling. From the corner of her eyes she looked over his exposed body. His legs were very slim and covered with short black hair, especially below the knee. She wondered what it would feel like under her hand, then she wondered if he would ever let her do such a thing. The white insides of his thighs were pressed tightly together, his underwear concealing the most private parts of him from her, but perhaps not enough that he felt comfortable in her presence.

She had been told what to expect from her husband, and the nature of the act of reproduction was of course familiar to her as a student of biology, but she had never seen more than sketches of the human male organ. Would he allow her to see it, handle it, and finally use it for its god given purpose?

"Please, lay down." she whispered to him. "Helen, I don't know-" she shushed him. "It's okay. I won't touch you. You can see I am totally covered. Just lie back so I can embrace you." She watched as he swallowed nervously then nodded with a jerk. He slid back on the bed and lay down stiffly, allowing her to look him over completely. He watched intently as she knelt on the bed next to his right hip, then closed his eyes as she went to straddle him.

...

"Oh, Helen!" he gasped as she settled the weight of her body over his hips. The warm weight of her legs pressed against his hips and the plush curves of her bottom snuggled sweetly against his hardening member.

He squirmed in combined discomfort and pleasure, the motion lead to a delicious friction that increased the feeling exponentially. He quickly stilled, not wanting to lose his composure before her.

"That's good, be still..." she whispered as she bent over until her chest and belly were flush with his. The overwhelming softness of her flesh caused him to tremble in excitement. For the first time he longed to run his hands over her bare skin, to grasp the contours of her bare flesh. He raised his hands to her, fluttering nervously over her clothed back, until he gently wrapped his arms around her and felt the angles of her shoulder blades. She was ever so small, though not delicate. Instead she seemed so soft and plush, not like himself at all.

She nestled her head into the curve of his neck and shoulder then gradually let the negligible weight of her body settle on him. Nikola found himself relaxing into the foreign feeling. There was something soothing about the pressure of her body against his own, so soothing he found his breathing and heart beat slowing, his eyes closing.

...

Helen felt her husband's hands slide down her body from her shoulder blades down her back, until they slipped off her altogether. She turned to face her husband with an inquisitive little hum, only to find he had dozed off. "How strange..." Nikola usually only slept four hours a night and never napped. He said his mind was always too busy and kept him up all the time. Every morning she awoke to an empty bedroom, only to find him in the sitting room, reading or tinkering with some random gadget. The closest he ever came to a nap was the occasional times she caught him in his favorite chair, head resting on his hand, imagining up some new invention incorporated into his own elaborate fantasy world. But this? She had never known him to spontaneously fall asleep.

Though the man had fallen asleep, apparently his manhood had a mind of its own. It still pressed firm against her thigh. She shifted so that it pressed against her sex and watched Nikola carefully. He stirred slightly, his thin lips parted with a little sigh, revealing the crooked teeth that he tried constantly to hide, always careful while in public to never open his mouth with a smile or laugh. Of course, she found his little flaws rather endearing.

She rocked lightly on top of him, finding the sensation rather enjoyable, and wondered idly if it was possible to complete the act without him even aware of it. The thought was illicitly titillating, and she rejected it at the moment as immoral, though she supposed if they encountered insurmountable difficulties she might ask his permission to try that method. It would certainly be...an interesting experiment.

She felt her sex heating and becoming damp at the notion of exploring his body freely, taking him inside of herself, all without having to watch for or care for his sensitivities. The fantasy was so compelling she let her hands wander over his narrow shoulders, carefully stoking his chest. 'Mmm...What nice skin, so warm and velvet soft...' she watched entranced as she stroked him freely. Abruptly she pulled her hands away as his eyelids fluttered.

"Wha-Did I fall asleep?" he asked muzzily, then yawned. The surprised look on his face was so darling; she giggled a little, and then wholeheartedly laughed when he treated her to one of his rare toothy smiles. "Oh, you are so dear to me!" she exclaimed swooping down to kiss his mouth. He dodged slightly, so she ended up pressing her lips to his bristly moustache, an affectation he had grown just after leaving school. Being cursed with the appearance of a gangly youth, he believed the facial hair would make him look older and help him find work.

After several long moments of gazing adoringly at him, Helen became aware of him softening under her then squirming. "Ah, let me up." he said blushing. A puzzled second later she realized what he was about. "Oh! Sorry." She dismounted and got under the covers, averting her gaze as he made his way to the WC.

He returned, unselfconsciously padding across the floor in nothing but his underpants, lifted the blanket and slipped into bed. Turning to her with a grin he said "After my uncle had heard enough about all the inventions I would make when I grew up he would say 'Go take a pee and go to bed!' and shoo me away." Helen burst out laughing, surprised at her seemingly shy husband's sudden audacity.

...

After another night of embracing, Nikola smiled as Helen mock chastised him, "Stop squirming!" and stole another kiss. His body shyness was starting to become a bit of a private joke between the two of them. After her laughter died down Helen told him what happened while he had been asleep the night before, blushed charmingly and asked if he would mind if she touched him when he was asleep. He considered it for a moment and consented with the caveat that he did not want to stop working on...consummation, together.

...

The next night Helen embraced him and gently touched his skin with her hands, running them over his shoulders and sides, as they pressed close together. Nikola seemed so soothed by the weight of her on him he hardly seemed conscious. His eyes half closed, occasionally he sighed and leaned into her caresses as sweetly as a pet cat.

All the while, Helen could still feel him pressing firmly against the juncture of her thighs. "Nikola?" she whispered. "Hmm, yes darling?" he drawled lazily, gazing at her adoringly. "Do you think, tonight...you are ready?" Nikola's eyes flew open, pupils widening until they appeared black with a thin rim of blue. "Ah, I, yes, I want to try." he said the last almost forcefully. She could feel him hardening and growing further under her. "I will just reach under, and take it out...okay?" He swallowed and nodded.

Helen pulled her weight off of her husband slightly and gingerly reached for his boxers. As her fingers collided with the rigid member Nikola jumped a little and they both gasped. After he relaxed a bit she rubbed her fingers along the cloth covered shaft. He whimpered softly as she grasped him though the thin cotton and gave him a little squeeze. The warmth of him was very pleasant and she lingered, caressing and grasping his member again and again.

"Helen!" he moaned, jerking his hips a bit. "Please-!" Helen cut him off, swooping down to kiss him. She slipped her pointed little tongue into his mouth, licking his teeth. Nikola moaned in shocked arousal, the wet heat of her raw flesh pressing into his mouth was utterly intimate and obscene. He squirmed against her hand, feeling both aroused and slightly disgusted.

He felt her let go of his shaft only to press her fingers inside the slit in his underwear. The skin to skin contact of her fingers meeting his member was fantastic. What had been a lovely warmth and pressure through a layer of cotton was now a hot sliding then grasping of flesh.

He moaned into her mouth as she pulled him free, then lifted the long shaft and pointed it toward her hot center. She brought herself to her knees and began awkwardly maneuvering, attempting to find the best way to mount him.

Nikola pulled away from the kiss and watched her. Her hand disappeared between their bodies and under the hem of her nightgown. He could not see her little hand on his manhood, only feel it as she pressed it against her soft nether lips. They were silky smooth at first, then as she pressed harder, the head of his member slipped into a slick heat. He groaned as she pressed even harder against him, circling her hips as she worked him into her tight, virgin passage.

"Боже!" he cried as the head popped past a ring of muscle, and he supposed by her cry of pain, past the beginning of her hymen. She froze above him, panting slightly, eyes tearing up at the ripping sensation inside.

After a few more attempts to stretch herself further around his hard length, each ending with hisses of pain, she looked at him, eyes wet and filled with regret. "I can't. It hurts too much." She flinched as she withdrew, then turned away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. She lifted her gown and was inspecting herself.

"Is there...um, blood?" Nikola whispered, watching her back closely. "No," she sighed, and pulled down her gown. She lay down beside him, her blue eyes watching him, "Next time, you will have to do it." Nikola slowly nodded.

...

Nikola was very nervous. Helen had told him that he would have to get on top of her. That he would have to...find her entrance. And then, he would have to put his organ...inside... Firstly, the idea of forcing himself into his beautiful Helen's body was horrifying. Beyond that, he knew once he breeched her maidenhead, she would bleed...all over his-

"Говно! How will I do it?!" He jumped to his feet and paced, completely agitated. It had been one thing to simply lie there and let her do it, all without having to do or see a thing. It was another thing entirely, having to do it all himself, with her watching him.

Maybe he would just have to tell her that it was impossible. He couldn't do it. They would need to have their marriage annulled and she would have to find a normal man. One who could give her children. One who could embrace and be embraced with no trouble.

He pictured her with another man, someone English like her. Someone well established in their profession of medicine or law. Someone from a good family, with a lovely home. She would be surrounded by kind relations, never left alone in a dark little apartment like the one he was pacing back and forth in.

Nikola felt his heart crumpling. He collapsed on his high-backed wooden chair. 'Why would she throw all that away for me and this sad little place I was able to get?' He put his face in his hands and groaned. "Helen, what will I say to you?"

...

Helen entered the apartment to find her husband sitting in his chair, head in his hands. She closed the door and locked it, trying to give him a moment to compose himself.

"Helen, I have failed you." She turned, eyes wide at the sound and sight of her husband crying. "I don't think I can do it. I am-no good for you..." She rushed to his side, longing to embrace him and comfort him, but hesitated; aware he might react badly to her touch. He lifted his face, looking up at her with sad eyes. "Do you see how impossible this is? You can't even comfort me, nor could I you. I'm sorry!" He hung his head, ashamed of his weakness.

Helen knelt at his feet, trying to force him to look at her. "Nikola!" He flinched when she raised her voice but met her gaze with his own. He sniffled and wiped his eyes as she stared at him. "I need you to tell me what you are thinking without worrying about hurting my feelings right now." She said seriously. "I am your wife. I won't leave you if you simply offend me, do you understand?"

Nikola teared up and silently nodded. She gave him a moment to wipe his eyes again and said softly, "I bought you some new gloves today. I thought it might help not to have to touch me directly. Tonight you don't have to do anything more than look, alright?" Nikola nodded miserably. "Tell me how you feel when you see me naked." She asked him firmly and calmly.

Nikola gulped and inhaled shakily, "I feel embarrassed and...scared." He whispered the last humiliated, and then the words poured out of him like a flood. "I don't know how I will react when I see you, so I don't want you to see me. I can't-People often misjudge me when I react to things strangely. It looks like I feel one way when really I feel another... I have tried to explain how I feel but they always believe their eyes over my explanation, and they start to wonder if I am lying. I couldn't bear it if you were suspicious of me like that."

Helen murmured in agreement and nodded. That did explain his strange fear of merely seeing her bare body. Obviously germs could only spread through contact, so she had been wondering why the mere sight of her skin was disturbing.

"Others may have the luxury of doubting you, but I do not." She held out her hand for him to take and held his hand as she led him to the bedroom. There she turned her back to him letting him unlace her corset. "Thank you Nikola." she said then kissed his cheek lightly. She turned her back to him again and began disrobing. "I won't look at you, but you can look at me..." she said softly.

Nikola watched as she stripped off her bodice and skirt, untied the voluminous petticoats and undid the front clasps of her corset, leaving her in nothing more than her chemise and bloomers. When she untied the drawstring, then stepped out of her bloomers he saw the bottom curves of her buttocks. She reached for the hem of the chemise and pulled it over her head, revealing the curves of her slender waist and the lovely arch of her back. Her figure was very like the ancient marble statues excavated in Italy and Greece.

Still facing away from him she said "I will go lie on the bed and cover myself with the sheet, except for...well, the relevant part." she cleared her throat a bit awkwardly, blushing. Nikola watched fascinated as the flush traveled down the back of her pale, slim neck. "Your new gloves are in my bag over there." she pointed to it, lay on the bed facing away from him, then pulled the sheet over herself, reclined on her back and arranged the sheet so her face and entire upper body was covered, leaving her bare from the waist down.

Nikola dug through her bag and retrieved the gloves, still in the box. They were the type he favored, pure white and of fine kid leather. He slipped them on and approached the bed. Was it humiliating for Helen, to put herself on display like this? Like a faceless object. The indignity of her pose was utterly disturbing. He shuddered, sickened with himself and the lengths to which he was driving her.

Gently, he took the blanket and placed it over her legs, leaving only her sex exposed. Perhaps, if he looked at it as an experiment? Nikola stifled a sigh. He had always hated biology. Even the thought of dissection made him sick. Instead he had satisfied the life science requirement in school with microbiology. Seeing all the hideous beasties that lived in ordinary drinking water was awful enough. The knowledge that such creatures were living on himself, Helen and everyone else, and that they were the cause of every evil disease that beset mankind, was not only disgusting but also terrifying.

Nikola knelt on the bed between Helen's covered legs. He bent over the little mound. She had trimmed the hair as short as possible displaying the little split. He placed his gloved hands on either side and slowly spread it open revealing the rosy pink inside. The first thing he noticed was the thin inner lips that converged at the little nub at the top. Gently placing a gloved finger on each little lip, he carefully pulled them apart looking for the opening. The flesh inside was a moist, bright pink, shocking in its raw, wrinkled appearance. He grimaced and steeled himself, pressing one finger into the puckered labyrinth inside, searching for the give of her passage. Despite being washed every day the organ had a distinct smell, musky with a tinge of urine. Next time he would have her wash directly beforehand. Maybe he would try to watch her while she cleaned herself. The idea intrigued him enough that he felt a slight stirring in his loins despite his disgust.

His gloved finger finally found the right angle and slipped halfway into her body. She flinched and spread her legs slightly more, causing her buttocks to part revealing her little hole. His eyes seemed drawn to it involuntarily. The crinkled rim of her hole was slightly brown with a pink undertone. He wondered how close he would have to be to it to smell it. He knew she had washed it this morning, but was it still clean? Or at least as clean as such a dirty little spot could be... It turned his stomach.

He pulled his hands from her, carefully withdrawing his finger, and hurriedly walked over to the wash basin to wash his still gloved hands. Hanging the gloves to dry, he then washed his hands as well for good measure. He heard Helen rustling about behind him, rearranging the bedding. He was definitely going to make her wash in front of him next time.

...

Nikola seemed to be becoming accustomed to seeing her bare body. The condition that she simply not watch him while he examined her was causing his confidence to grow, almost to the point of boldness.

Judging by the playful tone of his voice, Nikola seemed to be enjoying directing her while she bathed before him. He asked her to turn away from him and kneel over a little wash basin, then bend over so he could view the area. Then he asked her to scrub each part a specific number of times. After a few times she laughingly asked him why exactly 36 times, or 27 times, or whatever his number of the day was? He actually laughed and said "You will figure it out eventually!" He must have been feeling fine to tease her so.

After a thorough rinsing he directed her to lie down for him, and proceeded further in his exploration. It was certainly a queer feeling, knowing that he was hovering over her bare sex; fully clothed and gloved, examining her rather like a doctor would his patient. Come to think of it, she had heard of doctors that specialized in relieving the female ailment known as hysteria, a nervous disease that was thought to be caused by a wandering womb in want of pregnancy. The treatment was regular application of pelvic massage; inducing paroxysms...perhaps her current situation was not so strange after all.

So relaxed had her husband seemed to her that she decided to mention it to him. "Oh really?" he asked, seemingly genuinely intrigued. "I should try massaging you then, and see what result we get." He laid the palm of his hand over the little mound and rubbed in slow circles. She hummed softly, enjoying the comfortable warm feeling the motion caused. "Is it very soothing?" her husband inquired sweetly. She murmured in agreement and her husband chuckled. "It must feel very nice," he sighed then experimented with rubbing a bit faster.

Helen began to get a strange sensation, a tingling almost like having to urinate, but different. Her sex began to dampen as the sensation grew. Her legs twitched involuntarily, she felt all the muscles inside her tightening as though they were grasping for something. She imagined her womb inside of her, hungering for her husband's seed. The memory of holding his hot manhood, the shape of it in her hand, made her hips twitch.

"Do you like it?" her husband whispered coyly, rubbing her just a bit faster, a bit more firmly. Helen pressed herself hard against his hand, shamelessly undulating her hips for him. She felt like she was losing control of her body, not to mention her mind. Lascivious thoughts invaded her imagination. She pictured Nikola ceasing his ministrations to open his trousers, revealing his bare manhood, hard and erect, ready to break her in and make her his. He would spread his long body over her and split her open then spill his essence inside her, inundating her womb, impregnating her with his child. Helen moaned, her body spasming again and again as her orgasm hit her.

...

Nikola watched riveted as Helen's body spasmed in 'hysterical paroxysms.' Judging by her cries of pleasure this treatment certainly did seem beneficial to her health. Helen sighed languorously from under the sheet, her entire body slack, her breathing very deep and slow. Nikola patted her little mound and wondered idly how often pelvic massage should be applied to keep her mood stable and content. Probably no more than once a week, he concluded.

Nikola examined the state of her sex after her paroxysms and found it much more wet, shining with a slick, clear fluid. The flesh was swollen and flushed; the lips had unfurled much like a flower opening to the sun. Somehow, this visceral sight was beginning to inspire affection in him rather than repugnance. 'A flower laden with dew,' he mused, 'Yes, my dear Helen's little sex could only be beautiful like the rest of her.' He gently pulled the sheet from her face, wishing to look into her eyes, and tell her so.

Helen looked at him surprised, and then glanced down at his hand that was still caressing the outer lips of her womanhood. "You are so lovely here. She opened like a flower blooming under my hand." he whispered to her with a secret little smile. Helen smiled tenderly back and took her husband's free hand in hers. "Thank you." she said but to him it felt more like 'I love you.'

...

Nikola now allowed her to watch him as he explored and played with her sex. He asked her for the anatomical names of each part and experimented with massaging the little nub known as the 'clitoris' and watched the 'labia' swell and spread in response. It seemed to fascinate him that he could control its movements. He occasionally searched out her passage. "Vagina," she instructed, amused when he parroted it back like a schoolboy. He gently penetrated it with one finger, feeling for the beginning of her womb. "Cervix." she informed him. "Do you realize that it moves upward as the labia open?" he asked her studiously, while she smiled indulgently at his 'study.' "No, I never knew that, but it makes sense I suppose. Likely it is for the purpose of making room for penetration." Her reply seemed to disquiet him and he sat up and removed his finger from inside of her then gently patted her vulva as one would a pet cat.

"Um, I have been thinking about that, and about the problem we had last time..." Nikola trailed off nervously, averting his gaze and coughed. He pulled the sheet down and covered her sex, then got up and washed his gloves, hung them to dry then washed his hands. Helen sat up; making sure her body was fully wrapped in the sheet and waited for him patiently.

He sat next to her silently for a moment then taking a deep breath said, "When I take your virginity there will be blood." He stopped abruptly, wringing his hands and groaning softly. "I-I have been known to-f-faint..." he actually stuttered. Helen had never seen her husband so distraught as to stutter. The man was generally extremely verbose and eloquent despite his accent. "-at the sight, of blood." he managed to force the words out.

He gathered himself for several long moments, controlling his breathing and swallowing several times, then said more smoothly, "And besides my deplorable weakness, I don't want-I'm sorry Helen, but I don't want to get your blood on my skin." He reached for her hand, brow furrowed, worried at her reaction to this confession, only to find her smiling at him. "That's fine, Nikola. I know a solution to that problem, though I don't think you have ever heard of it. There is a device, rather like a glove for the penis, used to prevent the spread of disease or to prevent conception-"

"Oh, a 'Redingote Anglais'? Huh, that would definitely help..." her husband muttered, interrupting her explanation. "Red-what now?" she asked, puzzled by the foreign words. It sounded rather French to her, or at least she knew that 'Anglais' was French for 'English.' Her husband snapped out of his reverie and explained, "It means an 'English riding coat,' and it is like you said, like a little glove made of linen-" This time she interrupted him. "How would you know what that is? Outside of medical circles, only men that frequent brothels generally know about them." The last was said harshly, her eyes accusing and suspicious.

Her anger only grew as her husband flushed bright red and looked shamed-faced at her. "That doesn't even make sense, what would you, with your fear of germs, ever be doing at a brothel?!" Nikola flinched as she yelled at him, and stammered, "Listen Helen, I never touched another woman privately. Never!" "Explain yourself!" she snapped, cutting him off.

...

He groaned and ran his hands through his hair, frustrated and berating himself for his slip of the tongue. 'Stupid! Why did I have to say that? Now she will find out. I'll have to tell her.' He looked up at her angry face and sighed.

"You know that before I came to Oxford I went to Graz Polytechnic in Austria, but I didn't finish. Then a few years later I went to Karl-Ferdinand University in Prague, but I only audited because it was too late to enroll. Well, and I didn't know any Czech..." he muttered getting off track. "Yes, I remember your academic history," Helen said tightly, clearly impatient with him.

He clenched his fist in his hand and sighed again, "I told you that the reason I left Graz Polytechnic was because I had a disagreement with my Physics professor about the Gramme dynamo and then I got a job as a draftsman in Slovenia, and that is true, but it is not the whole truth..."

Helen put her hand over his clenched fist and looked him in the eye. "You need to tell me what happened. You can't keep secrets from your wife because my life is in your hands." Nikola nodded solemnly realizing the truth of her words.

In becoming his wife Helen had ceased to exist as a legal person under English law. All her possessions and any income from her work was his property. In a very real way, _she_ was his property and was subject to his will, so much so that if she were ever accused of committing a crime in a court of law, he would be held to blame, as it was assumed a wife only acted under her husband's direction.

The tremendous responsibility marriage brought with it was one of the reasons he had been leery of it for so long. He was virtually as responsible for Helen, her health, well-being and decisions, as if she were his child. She had felt as leery of the institution as him, but for the opposite reasons. Putting her life entirely in another person's hands had not been appealing to her in the least, until they had fallen so madly in love. She had been well on her way to being an old maid, but had given up her independence, freedom and self-possession, entirely for him. He owed her an explanation at the very least.

…

"My first year at Graz I was determined to prove to my father that God had called me to be an electrical engineer, not a priest like him. When my brother died, father promised my life to God, if He would protect my life. I only managed to get him to change his mind when I was near death from cholera. I said, 'if only I could study engineering, I might find the strength to pull through.' My father promised me that if I lived I would study at the best engineering school possible, and he kept his promise, but not without an agony of doubt. He did not see technology as a cure for the world's ills and thought that essentially, science was an indulgence, a waste of time. Everything he thought anyone needed to know could be found in the pages of his Bible. What was most important in life was purifying oneself of sin, controlling one's passions, destroying one's pride and getting closer to union with God. At that time, I did not disagree with him except in one respect. I thought that helping other people was not just helping them spiritually through preaching, moral guidance and such, but helping them physically. After all, God created mankind in his image in a physical form, and so helping physical beings through physical means must be just as good as helping them spiritually. And I thought that God had given me a gift, my ability to visualize inventions before me just as real as if I had already built them, as a sign that this was His will for me."

Nikola gently took Helen's hand in his and continued with his story.

"My first year at Graz I burned with a fanatic zeal to do God's work for me. Every moment I was not in class I locked myself away in my room and studied. I studied until 11 at night, then studied more from 3 in the morning until my first class. I hardly ate. I only knew the names of my professors and virtually never spoke to the other students. I took every exam and participated in every contest and project. I won every award offered and got the highest marks possible. After that year, I went home to visit my family; bringing with me what I thought was definitive proof that I was right. My outstanding success would prove to my father that this was God's purpose for me."

Nikola gazed deeply into Helen's dark blue eyes and wondered how she fit into God's plan for him. What greater things could he accomplish knowing that she was counting on him? What decisions could he make knowing that she would be there to advise him? He steeled himself, ready to tell her of one of the most painful events in his life.

"I showed him all my accomplishments. He looked at me with disdain and said, 'How your pride has taken you over since you left. These boasts of yours seem to have no end, and merely make you look like a fool. What good are these slips of paper you have worked so hard for, when you have made no attempt to control your vainglorious nature? Humble yourself, before God does it for you.' I was so shocked by his words that I was left dumb and empty. Strangely, part of me accepted his words as true, after all who was I to know what God wished? Another part of me was so certain that I was right, and the two parts of me could not abide each other.

In addition to my confusion and inner turmoil, I was hurt. Why was my father contemptuous of me when I only ever tried to please him? What was so wrong with me, that I could never do right by him? To my horror, I started to cry there before him, and he dismissed it, saying, 'You are only crying because I hurt your pride. Go back to school and stop trying so hard to be better than everyone else. It is only making you disliked and taking you further away from God.' I left for school feeling unmoored, freed from some unknown burden but also strangely full of grief. What happened next I am not sure I will ever understand."

...

Nikola appeared weary and beaten as he told her of his father's harsh words and his subsequent actions in his second year of school. He claimed that the feeling of having two halves at war with each other only intensified over time. He alternated between frantic study and a cynical doubt and rejection of everything he was being taught. This eventually led to the argument with his professor over the necessity of a commutator on an electrical dynamo and he began to doubt the value of his studies altogether.

Besides that, he had found it was true what his father had said, the other students did resent and dislike him for making them look bad with his fanatical work ethic and high scores. He tried to follow his father's advice, take breaks and get to know his fellows more. They took him to play chess in the botanical gardens, drink too much coffee, smoke and talk until late at night.

Eventually, when he became decent at chess it was suggested that a wager be made to make the game more interesting and motivate him to increase his skill. Within a short period of time he was unbeatable and had to move on to first billiards, then cards. Soon he had enough winnings from gambling that he had extra spending money for the first time.

He was enjoying making his own money and was becoming quite popular for his new ability to dress well and perform trick shots in the billiards hall. After a while, he realized how easy it was to count cards, and began to attract positive attention from women as well for his ability to win consistently at gambling.

Study fell by the wayside. Eventually he stopped going to lectures as well. He lost his scholarship and was forced to leave town. His friends had no idea where he had gone and worried that he had killed himself by jumping from a bridge.

Instead he went to Slovenia and supported himself for a while as a draftsman and spent the rest of his time at the Happy Peasant Tavern playing cards. It was there that he was introduced to the device known as an 'English riding coat' by the tavern girls who had a lively side business of prostitution. They attempted again and again to get him to spend his winnings on their 'charms' but he always refused. This earned him the reputation of being a greedy, good for nothing card shark.

It seemed he had worn out his welcome at the Happy Peasant because soon enough someone informed the local law enforcement that he had no residency permit for Slovenia and he was promptly arrested for vagrancy and deported back to his hometown in Croatia. His family was horrified when he showed up on their doorstep accompanied by the police.

When his father demanded an explanation for his behavior Nikola had nothing useful to say. He could not explain why or how he had become a gambler, and claimed never to have made the decision to do so. It was not out of a sense of defiance so far as he could tell, but he could only say that it gave him so much happiness and that he was so good at it, that he did not see why he should ever stop.

Nikola's father paled at these words, as he well knew his son's obsessive and compulsive personality. Whatever he did, he did with such a passion that onlookers feared he might drive himself until he dropped dead. Nikola heard his father say, "What have I done?" before he retreated to his room. Shortly thereafter, his father fell ill and died, perhaps from the stress of seeing his only son ruined.

Nikola continued to gamble, but became increasingly reckless and began losing regularly. His mother was at her wits end and finally came to him one day with a roll of cash. She said to him, "Here. The sooner you lose everything we possess the sooner you will get over this." Then, he stopped and never gambled again.

Later on, while going through his father's papers he found a series of letters from his former professors at Graz. They implored his father to call him home from school as they did not wish to be held responsible for his death when he killed himself with overwork. The explanation for his father's harsh words to him did little to comfort him.

...

Nikola stared at the bed ashamed. "Well, now you know why I dropped out, and why I know about such disreputable things. I was a disgrace and no one in Gospić will ever forget it. Not to mention, in Graz and in Maribor... My sisters certainly will never let me live it down," he muttered.

Helen felt bad for having doubted her husband. Of course the idea of him carousing with whores was ridiculous. What had she been thinking? All she had accomplished was to force her husband to disclose his moments of greatest shame and personal suffering to her, and in the process had eroded the trust they had built between them.

"I am sorry I doubted you. It was wrong of me, and you deserve better." She gently touched his face, lifting his chin and looking into his eyes. "This is so hard for you, I know, and I am so grateful for the effort you are putting into this. All I seem to do is make you feel bad about yourself, but I don't ever want to do that." Nikola demurred and she shushed him gently.

"I only ever want you to love yourself as much as I love you, because you are the most precious thing to me in this whole world. There is nothing you could do, or that you have done in the past, that could change that. Please believe that. I'm sorry I was cross with you. That was just me being stupid and insecure."

She said her piece then leaned forward and ever so carefully kissed his lips, then turned his head for him and whispered in his ear seductively, "Please go pick up one very petite 'English riding coat' tomorrow, alright?" Nikola smiled back at her and nodded shyly.

...

Everything was prepared. Helen was clean and laid out for him, covered nicely with a little towel under her to ease any clean up afterwards. Since her body was well covered he had stripped completely naked, leaving on only his gloves. All that remained was to determine if he was comfortable with her watching him attempt to penetrate her or not.

It seemed unfair to deprive her of her sight and consequently the memory of her first time. Losing one's virginity could only happen once and he was sure she would want the memory, no matter how things went. He decided he would allow her to watch. It was the least he could do, and frankly the events he had told her about were far more humiliating than her seeing his naked body, or how he might react to the sight of her blood.

He was nervous though. So much so that playing with and rubbing her little sex was proving inadequate to arouse him to tumescence. Finally, he was forced to ask for her assistance. She agreed happily, slipping her hand out from under the sheet and gently taking his soft manhood in hand. A few squeezes and stokes later and he was definitely ready. He slid the little sheath of linen over his erection and tied the ribbon at the base.

Carefully, he knelt on the bed between her covered legs, spread her labia gently with thumb and forefinger of one hand then searched briefly for the entrance of her vagina with the other hand. Finding her soft spot with one finger, he reached for his penis and guided it into it. He shuffled about on his knees, then began leaning over her, pressing his hips over hers. She adjusted her position minutely to accommodate him, helping him get into position. When he finally felt the head of his erection pushing into the entrance of her body, he let go of her labia and put his hand on the bed next to her head.

Now came the hard part, pushing his way past the barrier inside, breaking it and forever making her his. He shuddered in a mix of intense arousal and anxiety, simultaneously attracted to and repelled by the violence of the act. He knew he would cause her to suffer, yet, wasn't it said that it was a sweet sort of pain? That women even enjoyed being broken and dominated physically by a man in this act of sex? A classmate had told him once that women were fundamentally sexually masochistic, and enjoyed giving up control to a man. That there was a thrill in trusting him not to harm her too much, but instead just enough to let her feel his strength. Was Helen like that? Was that why she insisted that he be the active one, to penetrate her for the first time, rather than continue to attempt to do it herself? Was she taking his measure right now, wanting proof that he was strong enough and aggressive enough to-

"Nikola, stop thinking and do it!" she whined, pressing her hips up against him, taking him ever so slightly more into her body. He brought his body fully over hers, leaning on one hand, guiding his erection into her with the other, and began putting his weight behind this first thrust into her body. She instantly froze with pain, whimpering as she began tearing. Tears started running down her face as he gradually increased the pressure, pushing bit by bit into her tender cleft. She sobbed and tapped his arm when the pain became too much for her. "Wait! Wait! Let me try to get used to it!"

He glanced down to where he was entering her body and saw that he was no more than a few centimeters inside. If it was this painful the whole way, this was going to take quite a bit of time. She was tense with pain and he found he could actually feel her body tightening around him. It was becoming almost painful for him as well, if very exciting. However he couldn't see how he was ever going to get fully into her in this condition. He reached down with one hand and rubbed her clitoris experimentally, remembering the relaxing effect it had had on her.

She hummed a little in appreciation and he felt her loosening gradually around him. He nodded with satisfaction when this allowed him to sink a little bit further into her. His previous study was evidently not wasted. He continued to soothe her with stokes to her clitoris while pressing further into her. She allowed it until he was about half way in then tapped his arm again asking him to be still for a while.

Given time to think again he mused that though he was not a particularly strong or aggressive man he must certainly be a clever one, for she seemed to be taking this well, and he could well imagine that most husbands did not take the time to study or understand their wife's anatomy and thus would likely do her harm, rather than-

Helen squirmed underneath him, circling her hips. Evidently she was ready for more. He pressed hard into her and suddenly slid neatly inside until he was fully sheathed. What a sensation! Despite the cloth barrier between them he could feel her fluttering around him, squeezing him warmly in a carnal embrace. There being no more space for his hand, he decided to lie over her and let her feel the weight of him on top of her. Likely something he had enjoyed so much, she would find pleasurable as well.

As he settled on top of her she moaned gorgeously. "Oh Nikola, may I touch you? I want to embrace you." She seemed to have forgotten her pain entirely. He nodded, allowing her to caress his bare back until her hands wandered lower to his buttocks. "Helen, what are you up to, my naughty girl?" She laughed and grabbed him there, squeezing the muscle, then attempted to push and pull him against her rhythmically.

"Move like this." she demanded. What a minx she had become. He slowly pulled back, conscious of her little hiss of pain, and then pushed back in. She jumped. "Ow..." she whimpered. "I don't think you are quite ready for that, my Сладак." he said wryly, smirking at the grumpy little frown on her face.

She pouted in an even more darling fashion.

"What does that mean?" "If I knew how to say it in English, I would." he said, enjoying teasing her. He tried it in German. "Niedlich." She shook her head again, frustrated. Well, maybe French would do it? "Mignon." She undulated her hips under him and said, "Oh, you mean cute."

He struggled to remain still while she ground herself against him, and tried out the new word. "Mmm, yes, you are very 'ky-oot,' and very naughty." "Yes, you said that before." she huffed with mock impatience; "Now _you_ do this." she pressed his hips against her again, this time in little circles. He complied and realized after a while that he was in fact rubbing her clitoris in this position. It wasn't doing much for him but she certainly seemed to be enjoying it. He watched her face as she moaned and her legs trembled on either side of his own. Her eyes fell half closed and she licked her lips with a flash of pink.

He wanted to kiss her the way she had him once, to let his tongue reach into her mouth and touch hers... Maybe next time. He continued the circular motion, observing her reactions and wondered idly if he could drive her to paroxysm. He increased his speed slightly to find out. After several more minutes, her moans increased in frequency and volume and he did indeed achieve the same result as through massage.

The feeling of her bucking under him and clenching rhythmically around his erection was certainly enjoyable, but not enough to bring him to orgasm, and besides that he did not relish the thought of cleaning that up as well as...the blood. Remembering that detail quickly killed his erection and he stilled on top of his wife.

"Helen?" he whispered, kissing her lightly on her damp cheek. She hummed deliriously in response, eyes closed and a smile on her lips. "Could you clean me up please?" She opened her eyes and met his worried gaze, her eyes clearing rapidly of passion, then nodded at him seriously. "Go ahead and pull out and close your eyes. I will take care of it." she offered. He smiled, relieved at her generosity and did as she asked.

...

Helen greeted the delivery boy with a glowing smile. The several packages he dropped off with her contained the new travel dress, a day dress and a ball gown that she had ordered in celebration of Nikola's new position at the Continental Edison Company in France. She could have bought half a dozen new dresses for the amount the ball gown cost, but it was the height of French fashion, and she knew Nikola would love it. She quickly packed the day dress away and hung up the travel dress in preparation for their departure early the next day, then she began unwrapping the gorgeous creation that she hoped would make her everything her husband wished her to be.

Nikola was not due home for several hours, so she took her time bathing, depilating then powdering her entire body, braiding and pinning up her hair, and finally, putting on her foundation garments: bloomers, chemise and corset. The new dress required a new style of corset as well, one that was rather tight-laced compared to her usual one. Though she had once had a 22" waist before the age of twenty, lately she had expanded to 27". The gown had a 24" waist; certainly it was not unreasonable, if a bit constraining.

After some exertion she reached the desired shape and began putting on the many voluminous petticoats. The outermost one was quite fancy, hemmed with elaborate lace designed to be seen just under the overskirt. Finally she put on the overskirt, a gorgeous creation of white silk, draped artfully feminine little gray bows and decorated with soft gray embroidery. The bodice was relatively plain by comparison; simple pure white silk edged in gray, off the shoulder and low cut enough to reveal her bosom in the front and the nape of her neck in back. She put on the pure white long gloves, and slipped a matching white and gray feather ornamented pin into her hair as the finishing touch.

Looking in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. "A fashionable woman of France, indeed," she said proudly.

...

Nikola slipped the key into the lock of the apartment that they would soon be leaving behind forever. As he turned the key, he patted the deposit the landlord had reluctantly returned to him. Helen would be pleased with him. Not that they needed the little wad of cash. His new employer had advanced him his first month's salary to pay for moving expenses and such. Nikola had taken half, arranged for shipping their few possessions, bought their tickets and paid their last outstanding bills. The other half he gave to Helen and told her to buy new clothes.

He was already enthusiastic about this job. Not only was the pay more than enough to keep him and Helen in comfort but it was also promising in terms of the possibility of advancement. And improving and repairing electrical equipment certainly sounded a lot more enjoyable than drafting.

Lost in envisioning the possibilities of his new position he didn't notice anything different when he opened the door and stepped into the apartment. As he turned to lock it, he heard Helen's voice calling to him. "Yes, sweet one?" he inquired as he pulled the money from his pocket and placed it in his luggage.

"I thought I would surprise you. What do you think of my dress?" he heard her ask plaintively.

Expecting to see her in an elegant, yet plain black traveling dress, or a striking day dress in the rich jewel tones she seemed to prefer, he turned, eager to see her transformation.

He was struck dumb by the divine vision before him. Helen had lit every candlestick in the room, surrounding herself with a glorious glow. The golden light reflected off her blond hair, giving her an utterly angelic appearance. But it was her dress that truly took his breath away.

The bodice hugged the contours of her waist, creating the focal point of her dress. The striking contrast between the fine, slender waist and the spreading skirts below and her full bosom above emphasized her femininity in no uncertain terms.

He approached her, eyes trailing over her formidable figure again and again. She was much more tightly laced than usual he noted. Not to the extreme that some young women managed, their waists so small that he could easily have encircled them with both hands, but certainly hers was small enough that she had attained that perfect proportion...

As he drew closer, the details of the artfully constructed skirt became clear. The pure white silk gleamed and shimmered, its complex drapery mimicked that of classical statuary of antiquity, but with a bit of modern flair. He examined the embroidery and realized that it depicted several little gray doves, one of which was charmingly holding an olive branch.

He looked up at Helen and smiled. She had picked his favorite bird for this, and wore this dress as a peace offering. After her suspicious questioning about his past, their relationship had sometimes been a bit tense despite her regretful apologies. This gift of herself, dressed in a constant reminder of forgiveness, was priceless.

The little feathers in her hair quivered as she breathed. She looked very like a timid wild bird as he approached. Her bosom swelled above the gray-edged neckline of her bodice, rising and falling with every quick, shallow breath. It was extremely appealing, and finally he pulled off his gloves and gave in to the desire to touch her there for the first time.

"My little dove, you are so soft..." he sighed as he caressed her bosom with the back of his fingers. The slim white curve of her neck begged to be kissed. He placed on hand on her waist, feeling the contours of her corset under her dress, and with the other pressed her head to one side while he laid a line of kisses down her neck. She giggled and squirmed as his moustache tickled her neck, then her shoulder and finally her bosom.

"Nikola!" she laughed, taking him by the chin and pulling him up to meet her in a kiss. He took in the sweet fragrance of her with every breath, then boldly opened his mouth a little and slipped out his tongue to taste her. She was so delicious.

What was that compelling scent, that taste that was just her? It was indescribable. Her tongue touching his own sent such a thrill down his body that he pulled her flush against himself, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist in a full embrace.

"Oh, Helen, my Helen. I could never do this with anyone but you." he moaned, as he grew more and more enflamed. Usually her body pressing against his had a soothing effect, but somehow this was different. He felt that he could never get close enough to her, and after a few more moments of running his hands over her and squeezing her tightly, he realized that he wanted to be inside of this gorgeous angel.

Yet, he didn't want to undo the ethereal spell she had cast upon him with her lovely dress. Glancing about the sitting room a solution suggested itself. He guided her toward the table, the turned her gently around and bent her over it. "What...?" she queried, confused by his mysterious actions.

He shushed her, "Let me try something." he soothed, pressing her back down lightly with one hand then reaching for her skirts with the other.

He remembered the tantalizing sight her sex presented when he made her bend over and wash herself. The little split was very compelling when viewed from behind and he had wondered what it would be like to enter her from that position. It was considered uncouth to mate like an animal, but it did solve the problem of dealing with her many skirts quite effectively, so he would go for practicality over taste in this case.

He settled her skirt and petticoats on her hips and pulled the slit of her bloomers apart to reveal her bare sex. It was pressed tightly between her plump white thighs, hairless as a girl. He clenched his hands and swallowed, excited by the realization that she had depilated her body for him. He gently nudged her legs apart with his own, spreading them until he could see her sex begin to open. If the sight of it had been appealing before it was now positively addictive.

He reached with shaking hands for the buttons of his trousers, quickly pulling out his erect manhood.

This was it. He was finally going to be inside his wife with no barrier between them. He would give her everything she wanted, a home, a family, every comfort and every pleasure that he was capable of obtaining for her; he would make them an offering to her, because she loved him.

He pressed the tip firmly against her, and felt her moving herself into better position. She wanted this so badly. He laid one hand on her back and felt her panting with exertion and excitement.

"Please!" she begged as she pressed her hips back, moaning as he pressed deeper into her wet heat. The naked enthusiasm in her voice was shocking and triggered in him a lust that he had never felt before.

He grasped her firmly with one hand, savoring the sight of his hand clasping around her waist. It was narrow enough to seem delicate in that ever so restraining corset. He laid his other hand on her bare shoulder, curling his long fingers firmly over her slim collarbone, then he thrust deeply into her.

He felt her whole body jerk forward, and she cried out sharply. He tightened his grip on her body, pulled out and then thrust forward into her again. The sensation was spectacular. Every time he thrust into her, her whole body moved with it. He could feel her legs spreading for him, the startled jerk of her hips as he gave her more and more.

She was whimpering continuously now, her lovely gloved hands fluttering and spasming helplessly on the table. He paused in his thrusting to pull one of her long gloves off to hold her bare hand in his. She squeezed his hand tightly as he began thrusting into her once more. As he went faster, he felt her body stiffen under him then relax. The world narrowed to nothing more than his hand in hers and his aching erection clasped in her quivering vagina. He moaned, hovering over her back, thrusting quickly into her still body. She groaned softly as he pushed deeply into her at the end of each stroke.

The ache in his loins was growing. He could feel a tightening and finally the moment of inevitability came. He was going to fill his glorious Helen with his seed. "Yes, yes..." he groaned in pleasure so intense it was nearly painful as he injected her womb with his essence. After the spasms subsided he collapsed over her back, and nuzzled her bare shoulders blissfully. He licked the nape of her neck as he took a few final little strokes then stilled, resting inside of her vagina. He imagined his seed taking root and growing inside of her, somehow mysteriously turning into a baby boy or girl, swelling her stomach until she was completely full with his child. He knew how happy it would make her to finally be a mother. She would be totally his at last.

...

Helen flinched each time her husband thrust deeply into her. The depth of it was painful in this position, and he was being unusually rough with her today, but she decided to say nothing. If this was what it took for him to become aroused enough to do it, then she could endure it for his sake. At first she jumped away with every thrust but after a while she seemed to lose her fear of the pain and tried her best to just relax and let him finish. Despite her efforts, it still hurt enough that she couldn't stop herself from tensing nor could she restrain her whimpers, but her husband seemed unaware. Suddenly he stopped, and she stirred with concern, not wanting him to quit now that he was finally so close. He pulled off her glove and clasped her hand.

'Oh, Niko...' she thought, 'even in this you are so sweet.' Somehow the comfort of his hand in hers allowed her to relax, and she found the pain decreased quite a bit. Her husband moved deeply within her body, and she felt that she had never been so intensely connected to another while at the same time so very disconnected. She couldn't see her husband at all, only feel him and hear him.

He increased his pace until he was virtually pounding into her body and began muttering in Serbian. Abruptly he thrust once even deeper than before, until she felt he must be stabbing into her womb and she felt his member jerking within her then a flood of hot liquid. 'You did it.' she thought dazed, as he settled heavily on top of her so that she could hardly breathe. He was humming with pleasure as he nuzzled and then shockingly, licked her neck. Obviously, he had enjoyed it a great deal. She felt simultaneously proud and annoyed.

"Ah, Nikola?" He hummed absently as he caressed her hand and rubbed his cheek against her shoulder. "Can you let me up? I can't breathe like this."

...

"Let it never be said that my children were dirty!" Helen exclaimed playfully as she chased a giggling Danny around the room, wash cloth in hand, ready to clean his sticky hands and face. Little Kate watched the scene with rapt attention from her bassinet.

Nikola sighed at the hubbub, grabbed his son by the collar and held him just long enough for his mother to wipe him off. He exclaimed in disgust when his son licked his hand to get him to let go. Nikola hurried over to the wash basin and washed his hands. Three times. He loved his son, but right now Nikola wished he was still at work.

Helen was an excellent mother and was obviously happy, but he often wondered what it would have been like if they had not had children. If perhaps, she had been barren, not that he would wish such a terrible fate on his beloved Helen, but...

She would have continued with her work, maybe become a nurse or midwife, or who knew, maybe even a doctor in her own right. He would have taken that opportunity to travel to America and work directly under the great man Thomas Edison himself.

He flinched as the baby let out a shrill cry that interrupted his thoughts. And not to mention he would have come home to a quiet house every night. "Helen, can you take the baby to the other room. I will keep an eye on Danny." he shooed Helen and the baby out of the sitting room and tracked down his son. The boy was hiding under the desk. Thank God it was clean under there. He grabbed his son by the arm and sat him at the table.

The boy looked back at him with his own gray-blue eyes. Nikola smiled at him and said, "Let's play a memory game. I will name twenty things; you picture them in your head, and then tell them back to me. If you get them all, I have a prize for you." Nikola smirked as his son's face lit up at the sight of the candy he pulled from his pocket. "Alright, are you ready?"

...

The End


End file.
